


For an Angel She's a Hot, Hot Mess

by Tesseractingrey



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Clexa Week 2021, Consent is Cool Kids, F/F, Unprofessional Behavior, Useless Lesbian Lexa (The 100), at work, being professional is overrated anyways tho, but here he is, i don't know how murphy made his way in here, if you can't laugh at your job like what are you even being paid to do, it's such a weird place to work, there should be, which makes it a fantastic fic setting, why isn't there a ymca tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29915013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesseractingrey/pseuds/Tesseractingrey
Summary: Clarke is pretty sure her supervisor hates her, but it isn't entirely unjustified, since she's not exactly a model employee.  Then Clarke falls into the pool.  Chaos ensues, as it is wont to do.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Kudos: 11
Collections: Clexaweek2021





	For an Angel She's a Hot, Hot Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty minimum wage jobs can be so incredibly boring, but also so incredibly weird — workplace shows are not lying, you can totally have fun at work if you've got good coworkers.

It had been months, and Clarke still wasn’t sure if her supervisor hated her. Her _hot_ supervisor, that is. The YMCA was open from 6am to 9pm every day (besides weekends, which was 8am to 4pm), and they certainly didn’t have the money to pay anyone to be full time, let alone overtime, so there had to be multiple supervisors. Luna did mornings, allegedly, but Clarke had never met her, because it would take a lot more than minimum wage to get her up before the sun. Roan worked during the day, and his sister Ontari, who usually coached the older kids on the swim team, filled in when needed, but Clarke didn’t find either of them particularly interesting. Since their mom, Nia, was the aquatics director, there was certainly some nepotism involved there, but they both seemed just vaguely angry all the time. And not in a hot way, like Lexa did. Echo, Bellamy’s girlfriend, was the only one of the Azgeda siblings who didn’t give off an ominous vibe.

“Supervisor” was a bit of an exaggeration of their responsibilities, though. Mostly, they got paid to sit on their phones, with brief breaks to listen to member complaints, check in people for lessons, lap swim, and family swim, and to give the lifeguards state-mandated breaks. Roan and Ontari never did anything outside of that, but Lexa took her role much more seriously and actually reprimanded everyone for not doing their jobs, as they were all wont to do. Lexa worked afternoons and weekends, leaving the Y before it closed so she didn’t work too many hours per week, but more importantly, leaving Clarke and Murphy to mess around for the last two hours of their shift.

It’s not that they didn’t do their jobs, per say. It was just an incredibly boring job, particularly when you were watching the swim team or family swim when there was one parent per every kid. No one was going to drown, so Clarke didn’t feel at all guilty for taking her focus off the water to try and get Lexa to talk to her, or her eyes off the water for a bit to have a kickboard juggling contest with Murphy. She glanced back often enough to make sure they were all safe, of course.

Right now, she and Murphy were being reprimanded because Lexa had been scrolling through the security footage from last week after a member had complained about someone stealing her flip flops. Unfortunately, as she attempted to find the correct tape, Lexa also happened upon the footage of Clarke and Murphy having a mock battle on the pool deck, using the absurd supply of rubber ducks as missiles and kickboards as shields. Murphy was an asshole, but he certainly knew how to make a Thursday night more interesting.

“Do you think this is appropriate behavior for lifeguards?” Lexa was a master of the disapproving glare. It _almost_ made Clarke feel guilty, but it had been really fun, so she couldn’t really regret it. Maybe if she’d lost the battle the bitterness would make her more vulnerable to the glare, but Clarke had impeccable accuracy in short-range duck tossing.

“There was no one in the big pool, cause the swim team got out early, and the kids in the small pool loved it,” Murphy protested. There were two pools at their YMCA: the big pool, which was longer and colder, where adult lap swim and the swim team practiced, and the small pool, which was shallower and warmer, where swim lessons, and family swim happened. The two were connected by an open doorway, where the lifeguards often stood so they could talk whilst guarding their respective pools. Technically, there was also a hot tub, but it had been broken for months, and the Y was too cheap to buy the replacement parts.

“Yeah, they’re all great swimmers! They joined in, so their parents loved it as well, and so we technically were watching the water.” It absolutely was unprofessional behavior, but technically, they had been doing their jobs, and there certainly weren’t any member complaints about the incident. That was Clarke’s specialty. Lexa blew out a frustrated breath. She did not enjoy Clarke’s specialty.

“Lifeguards are supposed to sit in the chair and watch the water, not play with the children.” Clarke had never sat in the chair. She had sat on every other available flat surface, though, just to annoy Lexa. “Please try to be more responsible in the future.” They both nodded, attempting to look at least a little bit contrite. Judging by Lexa’s eye roll, they hadn’t exactly succeeded, but she looked tired enough of their antics to just give up for now.

The thing is, Clarke wasn’t _trying_ to make Lexa’s life hell. She was just so _easy_ to mess with, and Clarke was only human. Plus, Clarke never did anything seriously wrong. She might not always focus 100% on the pool, but she was aware enough to do her job and make sure everyone was safe, so all of Lexa’s reprimands were about just the stupid things she did to amuse herself. Lexa would be leaving in about an hour, though, and then Clarke had big plans to play ring toss with barbells standing up on one end as posts, and inner tubes for the rings while she chatted with the “lap swimmers” in the small pool, who were mostly just walking and doing water exercise. The nighttime regulars adored her anyways; they didn’t care what she and Murphy were doing.

Currently, though, Lexa was still here, and there was no one in the small pool yet, so Clarke was standing on one of the blocks and seeing if she could balance and guard on one leg, while she attempted to distract Bellamy, who was coaching the younger kids on the swim team. The kids loved him, because he let them have much more fun than Ontari, but they also loved Clarke, because she could reliably talk Bellamy into letting them have even _more_ fun. Tonight, though, she was using her time to heckle him about his lackluster gin rummy skills. She had beaten him 6 times in a row last night, though, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t earned it.

So overall, it was a very normal night. Until it wasn’t.

———

Generally, Clarke’s balance was good enough. It’s just that she hadn’t been prepared to be hit by a rogue revenge duck from a bored Murphy, and so suddenly, she was pitching forwards, arms flailing wildly and ineffectually like a cartoon character. Luckily, the water cut off the “fuck” she was in the process of yelling, since she was surrounded by children. Unluckily, she was now in the water. But luckily, there were no children for her to hit, as they were in the middle of a lap and were all towards the other side of the pool, which was why Clarke had had the opportunity to bother Bellamy. However, again, she was now in a cold pool, so it was a bit difficult to feel lucky.

Sputtering, Clarke surfaced to see Murphy laughing so hard he was holding onto a table to keep himself upright, Bellamy looking like he wanted to do the same but was trying to remain professional in front of the kids, and Lexa, who was ready to jump in and save her. So that was all fairly predictable. What she didn’t expect was the concern on Lexa’s face, where Clarke assumed there would be disapproval. Falling in the pool was _definitely_ unprofessional behavior, after all.

When she finally managed to drag herself up on deck, she decided that she was entitled to lying dramatically on the floor to recover from her ordeal. Her dignity was probably unsalvageable at this point, so she didn’t bother trying to find it and stand up like nothing had happened. Clarke stared up at the high ceiling, wondering if she could just lay here until everyone left and then slosh home in peace. At least it was spring, so her chances of freezing to death mid-slosh were reasonably low.

But apparently, falling in the pool wasn’t enough misfortune to satisfy whatever fates or gods there were that hated her, because now Lexa had walked over and was blocking her view of the extremely interesting architecture of the ceiling that she’d been trying her best to focus on. Clarke groaned morosely and threw an arm across her eyes, like a toddler who’d yet to master object permanence, hoping that not looking at something would make it no longer there. She was pretty sure kids had object permanence down by the time they were toddlers and it was really only babies who struggled with it, but Clarke currently identified more with a petulant toddler than a whiny baby, so she hoped that any area telepaths who were reading her mind would forgive the liberty she’d taken.

“Get up, Griffin. I think we have some extra dry clothes in the guard room you can borrow.” Clarke just groaned again. Lexa poked her with a toe. Clarke peaked out from under her arm to see her supervisor offering her a hand, and since she had no pride left to salvage either, she took it, and let herself to be dragged over to the guard room.

It was more of a guard closet, really, boasting about 5 square feet of space, an understocked first aid kit, what amounted to _cubbies_ for them to put their things in, and a cabinet of miscellaneous items. “Cabinet” was a bit of a generous term as well, seeing as it was made of cheap plastic and all three drawers, which always got stuck when someone tried to open them, looked like the junk drawer everyone had in their kitchen, each competing to see which could have the largest number of useless items. Underneath a pile of broken goggles, Lexa managed to unearth a red tank top, which was confusing, because they didn’t even _have_ guard tank tops. To match, Clarke stole the shorts Murphy always brought to change into after work, so he didn’t have to wear the required uniform ones for any longer than needed, as part one of her revenge against him. With a sigh at her lack of a towel, Clarke started stripping off her wet clothes. Lexa let out a strangled noise, and started to turn away.

“What? It’s not like it isn’t anything you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen much worse in the locker room.” A challenge. Perhaps an avenue of regaining her dignity, or perhaps an opportunity for something else. Lexa stood her ground, making determined eye contact with Clarke. Challenge accepted. Clarke changed into the lifeguard tank top, which turned out to, of course, be far too small. See earlier ruminations on higher powers having it out for her today.

It was only once she was dressed that Lexa broke eye contact, eyes flicking downwards briefly, glancing at the stretched out fabric. Blushing, Lexa now turned her gaze to the first aid kit, staring intensely at the red cross symbol on it. Interesting. Perhaps said higher powers were trying to cut her a break now.

“I think I’m better looking than the nudist old ladies, at least,” Clarke said. Lexa looked flustered.

“A bold claim,” Lexa replied. Clarke smirked.

It was a dangerous line they were walking, the one between casual teasing, consensual flirting, and workplace sexual harassment. Clarke wasn’t sure how you could walk a line between three different things, but that’s definitely what they were doing, and she couldn’t think of a better metaphor for it. But walking the narrow line of “having fun” between “being boring” and “getting fired” was Clarke's specialty, after all. Whatever this game they were playing was, though, they were both playing it. Lexa could’ve walked away if she wasn’t interested.

Clarke peeled off her dripping leggings, exchanging them for Murphy’s gym shorts, which were a bit big on her. Paired with the tight tank top and with her soaked wet hair plastered to her back, she knew she painted quite a picture. An absolutely absurd picture, that is. Clarke decided to own it.

“What do you think?” She spun around to show off all angles of her outfit. “I think I’ve got my next date night outfit all planned out.”

“Ngk,” Lexa responded eloquently. Flustering her hot supervisor was a favorite pastime of Clarke’s, but she’d never tried this method before. Seeing as Lexa seemed to hate her, Clarke had assumed she wouldn’t be interested.

“Do you still hate me? Is this making things worse?” Maintaining the dignity she’d managed to scrounge up for herself was overrated anyways. Consent was important and all, even if it was just consent to flirt. Consensual flirting was the best kind of flirting.

“Uh...what?” Lexa looked genuinely confused.

“I dunno, you just always seem annoyed by me,” Clarke said defensively.

“That’s because you’re always doing things intentionally to annoy me,” Lexa pointed out, which — okay, good point. “It's just easier to focus on that than on—” She cut herself off, back to looking flustered again.

“Than on what?”

Lexa seemed at war with herself for a moment, and then she was surging forwards, gently pressing Clarke against the shitty cabinet and kissing her.

“Than on wanting to do that.” Lexa’s eyes suddenly widened as she processed what she’d just done. “That—you were flirting with me, right? Please don’t get me fired for sexual harassment.”

“That was the goal, yes. The flirting, not the firing.” Clarke rushed to correct herself before Lexa could panic even more.

“Oh thank god.”

“I guess this works as a first date outfit after.” Maybe the higher powers didn’t hate her either.

“Don’t you dare wear this out to dinner with me.”

“Are you asking me out, Woods?”

“Ngk.”

———

A pair of stolen shorts and a date with her supervisor wasn’t nearly enough to make up for her unscheduled swan dive, even though it had been a really good date, so Clarke had enlisted The Three Hellions for help. Bellamy had given the trio — Tris, Aden, and Charlotte — the nickname after they’d gotten the whole group of swim team kids to sing “The Final Countdown,” complete with acapella guitar noises and the verses, at the end of practice every night for a week. They only stopped after Bellamy had threatened them with a 200 butterfly if they continued. They were always down for causing chaos, though, and Clarke wasn’t above asking for assistance.

Swim practice was about to begin. Murphy was perched on a table, looking bored out of his mind. Normally, this would be Clarke’s cue to throw a ball to him, so they could engage in a game of long distance catch between the pools, trying to not let said ball fall into the pool nor hit anyone. Today, though, she had a much more interesting way to amuse herself. Clarke was supposed to be guarding the small pool at the moment, but since Murphy’s chosen table wasn’t near the doorway and was the perfect position for her plan to be carried out, she’d asked the two people who’d showed up for lap swimming to wait two minutes before getting in. They hadn’t minded, since they liked Clarke, and so now, Clarke was standing in front of Murphy, talking to him about his weekend plans. Distracted by defending himself against her teasing about Emori, Murphy didn’t notice the three children who were now positioned behind him, poised for action. The kids often left their bags around on the deck, so it wasn’t unusual for them to be near this table, which was a prime spot for bag positioning. What was unusual was that they were each standing on a chair, swim caps held aloft and full of freezing cold water they’d gotten from the locker rooms on their way in.

When Clarke clapped once, to punctuate a point about how he better be treating Emori right because she was perfect for him, The Three Hellions recognized the agreed upon signal and dumped out their water on a surprised Murphy. Before he could even process why Clarke was speed-walking — no running on the pool deck, of course — over to the small pool mid-conversation, he was soaked.

“Don’t worry, we have an extra guard tank top in the guard room!” Clarke called over her shoulder.

“Clarke—” Ah. Right. Lexa was also still here. “Where do you think you’re going?” Clarke kissed her on the cheek as she speed-walked by.

“Just doing my job, guarding the small pool!” She said, innocently.

“I will get you back for this!” Murphy yelled.

“Don’t you dare start a prank war in my pool. This is not profess—”

Some things never changed, even when you got to kiss your supervisor once you got home. Oh well.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Title is from ["She's So Mean" by Matchbox Twenty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8WLa6umgdw) because possibly toxic overtones notwithstanding, it's a pretty fun and fitting Clexa song  
> 2\. If you've never jumped in a pool with leggings on, intentional or not, 0/10 do NOT recommend  
> 3\. Yes I've worked a YMCA before, and yes I've cast the characters as particular coworkers  
> 4\. Don't worry, no one would care if a lifeguard was dating the lifeguard supervisor, since they do very little actual supervising, so there's not really an opportunity for an ethical issue  
> 5\. Did you really have a childhood if you never threw a swim cap or some other receptacle filled with cold water at your friends?  
> 6\. "The Three Hellions" is absolutely stolen from RhinoMouse's ["A Different Landing,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610291/chapters/15124312) which is far better than anything I've ever written, so you should absolutely go read it right now if you haven't yet  
> 7\. These end notes are getting a bit excessive oops  
> 8\. Anyone catch the small "Good Omens" reference?


End file.
